


Mimicry

by HachiKamaitachi



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Accents, Blood Drinking, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 10:09:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HachiKamaitachi/pseuds/HachiKamaitachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seras is an accent mimic.  One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mimicry

‘You have a most unusual accent, if you don’t mind my saying,’ Walter said one evening when he brought a just-waking Seras her blood bag.

‘Err… yeah,’ Seras said.  It wasn’t the first time it’d been mentioned to her, although it was the first time since she’d joined the Hellsing Organisation.  ‘I’m a bit of an accent mimic.  I picked it up from all my families.’

‘Families: plural?’ Walter said, arranging the blood bag neatly on the table beside a clean white bowl and spoon.  He knew she liked to keep this one human ritual.  Sucking out of a plastic bag was downright disgusting.  If she was going to drink blood, she was going to do it in a civilised manner.  She was, as Integra had said, still English after all.

‘My parents died when I was little,’ Seras said.  She sounded robotic.  This was obviously something she’d had to tell a lot of people over her lifetime, and something she tried to tell them without thinking about what the words meant.  ‘I had a lot of foster families; mostly in London.  I was a… err… “problem child”.’

The eyebrow that was not holding Walter’s monocle to his face rose.

‘Surely not,’ he said with a hint of mockery.  ‘Our sweet little Seras, a problem child?’

‘I used to get into fights with the other children a lot,’ she said, face going almost as red as her breakfast on the table.

‘Alucard would approve…’ Walter muttered.  Seras didn’t seem to hear him; her eyes had turned up to the ceiling as she recalled her awkward childhood of shifting from house to house.

‘One family was American,’ she said cheerfully.  ‘They’d moved to London from Washington D.C.  I liked that family.’

‘That does explain your accent,’ Walter mused, ‘but do try not to sound too American in front of Sir Integra.  It irritates her something awful.’

Seras turned large, confused eyes on the butler.

‘Alucard has an American accent,’ she said.

‘My point exactly.’


End file.
